5 Chick Flick Moments Dean Winchester Claims Never Happened
by ROSSELLA1
Summary: And one he's fine with admitting to. Exactly what the title says. Takes place at different periods of time. Spoilers for Season 8.
1. Pictures

Pictures

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. 

A lot of things had changed when Dean was in Purgatory. Dean had changed. Cas was dead. And, most of all, Sam had changed. It wasn't just the whole 'I was alone so I couldn't do anything' mentality. His brother had suddenly developed an affinity for taking pictures. Of Dean. Sometimes of the two of them. But mostly of Dean. At different state signs, different pit stops, in the Impala. Everywhere.

At first Dean protested; besides being evidence that Sam and Dean Winchester were very much alive, it was just a waste of time. They had work to catch up on and they didn't have time to indulge his little brother's little hobby. But after it became clear that Sam wouldn't be deterred, often getting shots of Dean when Dean wasn't looking, Dean decided that he could grin and bear it. Hell, maybe if he put up with it for a while Sam would outgrow it. And then Dean woke up at 4:21 in the freaking morning to the sound of a camera click.

"Sam?" Dean asked slowly.

"Oh. Dean." Sam quickly stashed the camera behind his back. "Hi. You couldn't sleep either?"

"I was sleeping just fine until you went creepo on my ass." Dean snapped, rising into a sitting position. "The hell you think you're doing?"

Sam glanced down at the floor, eyes taking on the puppy-dog look. He muttered something unintelligible.

"What was that?"

"I just wanted a picture of you." Sam whispered.

"Yeah," Dean rolled his eyes, "I think I got that. Mind letting me in on why?" Another mutter. "You'll need to speak-"

"SO I HAVE SOMETHING TO REMEMBER YOU BY!" Sam shouted. "OKAY?"

Dean blinked, taken aback. "What?" He asked intelligently.

Sam bit his lip. "So I have something to remember you by." He sighed and brought his eyes up to meet Dean's. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Sam beat him to it. "Look, I know you think I just gave up on you, and, yeah, I guess I did, but it wasn't because I didn't care. Not a day went by that I didn't think of you." Dean thought about cutting him of here; it was getting a bit too chick flicky for his liking. But Sammy seemed to need to get this off his chest and, truth be told, they'd need to discuss this sometime, so why not now? "If I had known you were in Purgatory I would've done everything I could to get you out. But I had absolutely nothing to go on! Nothing on what happened to someone who killed the head leviathan, no one who'd even know where to look. I didn't know what to do. All I knew was what we'd promised each other. And, hey. It's not like you didn't do the same think when I went to Hell." He held up a hand to stop Dean's protest. "I'm not blaming you. I'm glad you moved on. I'm just saying that…I didn't know what else to do."

Dean digested this for a moment. He supposed Sam did have a point. "Okay. So what's with the pictures?"

Sam blushed and dropped his gaze again. "I didn't have any pictures of you. I had the Impala and a bunch of memories. Nothing that I could actually look at and see you." Sam chuckled. "I actually googled us so that I could see your mug shot. But," Sam shook his head, "I don't know. It just wasn't the real you." Normally, Dean would have made some crack about Sam acting like some moody teenager from a dime store romance novel, but something told him that that would hurt rather than relieve the tension. "So," Sam looked back up at him, "I want to get as many pictures of you as I can. So that I'll always be able to look at them."

"I'm not planning on going anywhere, Sammy." Dean said quietly. "You could always just look at me."

"I know." Sam replied. "But it'll make me feel better to have them."

Dean swallowed. Twice. "Okay. I uh…I guess that's fine…but could you do it while I'm awake? No matter what Twihards think, watching someone sleep is just plain creepy. And taking pictures of them sleeping? It doesn't get much more stalkerish than that."

Sam laughed, "I think I can do that."

"Good." And Dean knew they'd be fine.


	2. Being There

Being There

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. Based off a scene from the book, The Unholy Cause, but still makes sense if you haven't seen it. Takes place during Season 5.

It was only after the incident with the noose that Sam had noticed it. Dean may not have always wanted a dog, but he did like them. Or he had before he'd gone to Hell. Now, whenever they passed a dog on the street, he managed to get between the dog and Sam, all the while looking as if he wanted to hide. And Sam knew why.

God knew that Sam had been terrified hearing the invisible hellhounds as they tore Dean apart! He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Dean, who could both see and hear them. At first, Sam had decided to deal with it the way they always dealt with things, by ignoring it. It wasn't that he didn't want to help his brother, but he knew that Dean would talk about it when and if he wanted to. Pushing him would only make him either close himself off or blow up and then drink himself into a hangover. But then Dean had almost drawn a gun on a perfectly harmless puppy.

They had been just outside their motel room, ready to go in, when a bark had sounded. Dean had paled and they both had turned towards it, just in time to see a Chocolate Lab, two doors down, tugging at his leash, trying to come over and play with them. If Sam hadn't been paying attention to how Dean reacted, the poor puppy would have gotten a bullet through its head and they would have had an angry owner and the police to deal with. As it was, Sam was paying attention and managed to grab Dean's hand before his brother went for his gun. Slipping the key into the lock, Sam quickly managed to usher them into the room before the puppy could get any closer and his brother could cause a scene. Now, Sam dropped his bag on the floor and sat down on the bed, waiting for Dean to address what had just happened.

Dean, of course, went straight to the fridge. He scoffed. "Thought they didn't allow pets in the motel."

"Some places do if they're well-behaved." Sam said quietly.

"Well, that mutt definitely-"

"Just a puppy." Silence. "Look, Dean, when are we going to talk about this?"

"Talk about what?" Dean turned around, beer in hand, challenging him with his gaze. He waited a beat. "I'm just a little wound up from our last hunt; that's all."

"Dean, this has been going on ever since-"

"Ever since when, Sam?"

Sam took a deep breath and held Dean's gaze; it was now or never. "Ever since you came back from Hell." Dean opened the can, tilting his head back to take a sip. "Look, Dean. I saw what the hellhounds did to you. I understand that-"

"No, you don't." Dean muttered.

"What?" Sam narrowed his eyes.

"I haven't…You don't know everything. You couldn't possibly understand, so don't even try. Okay? We finished here?" Dean chugged the rest of the beer and immediately went for another one.

Sam was about to protest, then changed his mind. "No, we're not. Maybe I can't understand, but I want to. At the very least I want to help."

"You can't help."

"Dean, please. I just-

"I said, no, Sam!" Dean snapped, turning away. "You just…" He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "You just wouldn't get it." Sam knew enough to be quiet. "I mean…" Dean gave a humorless laugh, "what's the fucking point of talking about this? It's not like you can make it go away."

"But talking about it might make it easier."

"Easier…" Dean shook his head. "You've got no fucking idea…" Finally, Dean sighed and turned around. "You know what? Fine." He said in a defiant tone. "You want to know why I can't just 'get over it'? You want to know why I'm scared of Fido all of a sudden? In Hell, they don't just use hellhounds to collect on deals. They use them to torture, too. Sometimes…sometimes, they would start off the day by taking me off the rack. They'd tell me if I…If I could outrun the hellhounds, I'd get a day off." Dean chuckled bitterly. Whatever strength he had started out with was now fading. "Thing is, sometimes I actually could, but most days…" He shook his head. "So, if I didn't run, I'd get ripped to shreds and if I did, I probably would anyway. It was a choice between definitely getting ripped to shreds for sure and most likely getting ripped to shreds!There was no way to win. I-" Dean cut himself off, then sighed. "What the Hell," He muttered, "Sometimes I can still hear them… sometimes I-" He bit his lip. "Dammnit, Sammy!"

"Dean." Sam said, walking forward.

"No!" Dean replied roughly, holding out a hand to stop him. "This isn't a fucking movie! I-" Sam ignored it, and pulled his brother into his arms. After a few seconds, Dean stopped fighting it and just collapsed against his little brother's chest. "I just wish I could forget." Dean muttered.

"I know." Sam soothed. "I do, too." And that would have to be enough. Because sometimes there was nothing else to do but just to be there.


End file.
